


Ardent

by reylotrashpiler (Hosnianprime)



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, POV First Person, POV Jude Duarte, PWP without Porn, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Spoilers for Book 2: The Wicked King, Vaginal Fingering, inaccurancies to the original, mentions of past relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-31 23:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hosnianprime/pseuds/reylotrashpiler
Summary: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,I recall whispering to him while he debauched my lips with his, not meaning it really.I hate you,I want to whisper to the trees, this time with a kind of force that - had I magic - would surely burn down the whole estate and half of Elfhame.I hate you."Perhaps you shouldn’t have saved me. You would have saved yourself a lot of trouble,” I hiss.“Perhaps,” he drawls and one hand comes underneath my chin to tilt it towards him. “But then I wouldn’t have such a pretty, spitfire of a wife,” Cardan murmurs and presses his lips to mine.Right in that moment, I know there has never been anyone else for me but him. Not Locke. Not the other guys.Only Cardan. Only ever him.
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 24
Kudos: 228
Collections: favorite on TFOTA





	Ardent

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains an alteration to the original. For spoilers, I have explained this in the endnotes.  
Unbeta'd because I had to "get this out of my system".

I leave the ragwort steed at the far end of the maze. Coming back to Elfhame without Cardan’s pardon is reckless and dangerous, but he will not keep me from visiting Taryn and her newborn daughter any longer. Missing out on her whole pregnancy was hard enough. 

I count on Locke, as the newborn’s father, to be worthy of his title and that the Master of Revels will organize a feast with enough spectacles and scandals that my presence will go unnoticed.

Vivi and Oak are already far ahead of me, of course, drawing Taryn and the baby away from the festivities. 

I climb a tree to get into the maze, praying that it would not lead me astray this time. Although it’s been three years since I set foot into Elfhame, I feel more at home than any time I do in the mortal world. As it turns out, I cannot only stick out by appearances but also customs. 

Mortals are not any less cruel than the Folk, but much, much less trustworthy. I haven’t considered what a _ burden _it would be to be constantly surrounded by the possibility of being lied to. If I were on edge here in the High Court before I left, the threat of betrayal amplified it a thousand times. 

It’s hard to make friends like that. 

One thing I am grateful for are the mortal clothes though. Suddenly I can’t imagine that I’ve climbed and fought in dresses when I can just wear jeggings and a leather jacket with boots. 

I am out of practice, but I will myself to remember every technique I’ve ever learned from the Ghost (at his name, I still feel some kind of cold shock) and try to sneak my way through the maze towards the castle. I am supposed to meet Taryn in her chambers, far from the guests. 

I climb on a tree to get a better view at the maze. It’s been at least four years since I’ve gazed down on it, and it has most certainly changed since. 

When I am comfortably seated on a branch, hoping that it’s not a tree people, I spot a figure not far from me. Crow black hair with the Blood Crown on it. 

_ Cardan _.

My blood pressure rises immediately with the force of the hatred that bursts inside of me. 

_ I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, _I recall whispering to him while he debauched my lips with his, not meaning it really. 

_ I hate you, _I want to whisper to the trees, this time with a kind of force that - had I magic - would surely burn down the whole estate and half of Elfhame.

I hate you. 

Without thinking, I sneak closer on the tree. To my utter surprise, Cardan seems to be alone, only him and a goblet of wine. Of course. In the mortal world, I have learned to call him for what he is. An alcoholic. 

But faeries don’t know this term, nor do they really suffer from the consequences that humans do. Liver failure and stuff like that. The Folk lives merrily forever, no matter how much wine they consume.

_ I hate you, _I think again, and before I can actually start talking some sense into myself, I hang from the tree and press a switchblade that I always keep in my leather jacket to Cardan’s throat from behind.

“You ought to be more careful, _ High King of Elfhame _or someone might murder you,” I whisper in his pointed ear. 

From the chokehold, I can feel as mirth rumbles in his chest. Cardan is _ laughing at me. _ Of course, he would. His body feels strong and lithe and too close for my liking. I really haven’t thought this through. 

_ I hate you. _

I tighten my hold, hoping that I am at choking him at least a little bit. 

“And you should not forget who I am, _ Queen of Elfhame, _” he says, utterly unperturbed. 

Belatedly, I realize that vines have grown around my limbs, circling my ankles and wrists and then the plants yank me off from him, pulling me high in the air, twisting my arms behind my back. A thorn picks on my hand and I let the switchblade fall with a yelp. 

I struggle against them in vain and I cease with it soon enough, only to turn my glare at Cardan.

When my eyes fall on him, my heart nearly stops. If I thought he was beautiful when I last saw him, wielding the power of the land and cooking the armies of the Undersea like fried fish sticks, I have not known what I was thinking. It might also be that I am utterly unused to the beauty of the Folk by now. 

But his grace hits me with a force that I cannot block out the one realization which dawns on me unbidden. That all these three years, I’ve been really only looking to replace him. I knew this from the strange glances Vivi has given me when I brought home the latest conquest of the football team, or the bike club or the local boy from the diner. Every time I could block out that their black hair wasn’t quite the shade I longed for; that the shine of their dark eyes wasn’t as dangerous that my breath hitched. That no mortal man, but no faerie either, could be as corrosively handsome as Cardan Greenbriar, the High King of Elfhame. 

“I should say that I am utterly unsurprised by your presence, _ wife, _” he drawls, sipping wine from the cup. 

Our affiliation is a stab to my guts. All that I have done, the little games I’ve played with these guys - like a true faerie would - I did nonetheless as a married woman. 

His obsidian eyes stare into my head as if he could read my thoughts of guilt. The kohl underneath them and the gold smeared on his sharp cheekbones make them shimmer with ambers of a fireplace. 

I can’t even begin to look at what fine garments he is wearing, as the wine leaves his mouth stained ruby red against his porcelain white skin and my thoughts jag. 

_ I hate you. _

“Then, maybe, you shouldn’t walk alone in the maze, _ husband, _” I spit at him, realizing that it’s only the second time I’ve ever addressed him as such and the very first time since exchanging our vows.

“You are out of practice, Jude,” he remarks coolly, lifting the golden cup to his lips again. 

I have no answer to that because it’s true. 

_ I hate you. _

“Do you know the punishment for returning from an exile, Jude?” he asks, and I feel as his eyes start to wander from my face to other parts of my body. I try not to flinch and wonder what he might see. I can feel his gaze mapping me out; my hair, my breasts, my hips, my clothing.

“I suppose something gruesome and bloody,” I answer because, really, I have no idea, nor do I care. 

Cardan’s gaze returns to me. I glare daggers at him, as he comes closer with deliberate, lazy steps. Now I see what he is wearing: long, golden coat embroidered with gems and silver, beneath it, a black fabric stretches with patterns that seem to move like smoke. He looks regal, kingly even.

It’s because he grew into his role to be king. 

He _ is _ the High King of Elfhame.

“Never-ending servitude in the pearl mines of the Undersea,” he says pointedly. 

I gulp. Even the mention of the Undersea makes me hallucinate puking water. I shiver. 

Cardan is close; so close that I can feel the timid body heat he has. Unlike mortal men, Faeries don’t burn like a furnace. Still, I can feel his presence on my skin. 

“Do you want that, wife? To go back to where I have saved you from?” he murmurs and his eyes fall on my lips.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have saved me. You would have saved yourself a lot of trouble,” I hiss. 

“Perhaps,” he drawls and one hand comes underneath my chin to tilt it towards him. His grip is strong enough not to bruise, but still enough to give me a sense of his power. 

“But then I wouldn’t have such a pretty, spitfire of a wife,” Cardan murmurs and presses his lips to mine. Right at that moment, I know there has never been anyone else for me but him. Not Locke. Not the other guys. 

Only Cardan. Only ever him.

In utter shock, I just kiss him back. I’m so much better at this than I was when I left Elfhame. In the mortal world, my real skills were useless. But I vowed myself to hone my skills in love, for the games of love were the ones where I got blindsided the most. I would die for any scrap of affection. First from Locke, then from Cardan.

The marriage, which, no matter how I try to spin it, played to my insecurities and my vanity; my lonely heart that somehow fell for the grand scheme of Cardan.

_ I hate you. _

I realize that the vines have long since let me go and that I am standing in front of Cardan entirely charmed by his commanding presence. As retaliation, I bite down on his lower lip strong enough to hurt and bury my hands in his black hair. The Blood Crown falls heavily on the ground, and I don’t care where it ends up. 

Apparently, neither does Cardan, because he groans into my mouth and slides his fingers in my unruly hair and presses me against the bushes. They support my back like a solid, but cushioned wall even as I sway on unsteady legs under the weight of his kisses. 

I’ve gotten better at love, I said. But there is no preparation what the slide of Cardan’s tongue against mine does to me. No matter how many guys I’ve conquered in the mortal world, the way Cardan tastes of honeyed wine, the way he smells of fresh pinewoods and crispy glaciers instead of the heavy, oppressing decay of a human body - in better cases, mixed with some generic cologne - it takes my mind away from me. 

I greedily swallow everything he is willing to give me and give him whatever he desires. His arm comes to circle my waist, while the other tilts my head to his liking. His tail curls around my right leg, caressing it absently. 

When he comes up for air, his blown eyes stare at me in disbelief. I pant, jutting my chin as if to dare him to comment on the obvious improvement in my sexual prowess. I can tell he doesn’t like it but doesn’t dare to remark it either. 

My hands sneak down the front of his chest, to the belt he is wearing. 

“Is this how they do this in the mortal world?” he asks as he sucks bruises in my neck. 

I gasp. _ Hardly, _I want to say as my mind reduces to a whirling fog and I feel my pulse race beneath his fingers where he holds my head beneath my jaw.

“Sometimes,” I deflect. 

He fixes me with a scorching stare. Faeries can’t lie with words - but as it turns out, humans can’t lie with their bodies. 

Right there I know he is certain I had lovers in the past years. I suspect that he had his too. Not that I would hold it against him - not aloud. Just like he doesn’t ask how I know this. 

Instead, he kisses me with a ferocity that makes tears spring to my eyes. To be wanted by him this much, and to think we are _ married… _The little girl inside of me is overwhelmed. 

His hands unclasp my belt swiftly. He fumbles with the button and the zipper. I help him undo them.

Behind him, the bushes seem to close on us, and blossoms sprout from nowhere, filling the air of our cocoon with the scent of honeysuckle. His hand slides into my underwear, finding me wet for him. 

He tilts my head by my locks to look at him.

“Look into my eyes, _ wife _,” he commands, and I obey. 

As his finger slides into me, my eyes flutter shut. _ Yes. _I have no idea if he uses magic or if it’s just Cardan, but what he does is so exquisite that my knees buckle. He holds me upright while moving his hand. His finger is long and illuminates crevices I can't reach on my own. He maps me out, patiently, as if we had all the time in the world, as if the weren't the High King, currently debauching his exiled wife out in the open air. 

He presses down to a spot, (mortal knowledge: G-spot) and I gasp. 

"Jude, Jude, Jude," he murmurs my name, "I really had no idea you could be so docile in my hands, my betrothed."

"Why," I force myself to open my eyes, "why are you — _ ah — _emphasizing it?“ I demand. 

His lips curl into a sly smile, and his charcoal eyes glint with heat. 

"Your cheeks flush, when I speak the truth, wife, which I find utterly charming. Or have you forgotten that you've vowed yourself to me, Jude? Although your mortal words don't bind you, only me."

"How could I forget the greatest mistake of my life, _ husband _?“ I hiss. "The day that cost me everything?" 

His thumb presses down on my clit just right and I have to tighten my hands around his neck not to fall. 

"I suppose you can't forget it," Cardan concedes and kisses me. 

I kiss him back, angrily and he chuckles. 

"I hate you!" I growl, and he laughs. 

"So very thin is the line between love and hatred," he says instead and spins me around so my back is to him. 

I can feel that he is hard. Three years ago, I was a little terrified by it, not knowing what to do. Now, I just grind my ass into his lap and swirl it. His breath hitches and his tail curls around my midriff, squeezing. 

"Most ardent my Queen," he groans, and I hate to admit to myself how his intricate exclamation speaks more to my heart than any '_ fuck, Jude, your ass, oh my god' _ever did. 

We grind for several minutes. His hand, which isn't stretching me now with two fingers in my pussy, is kneading my breasts. His teeth suck bruises in my neck, and I reach up to yank at his hair. 

I love the way it feels like silk, finer than any garment humans could ever weave. I trace his pointed ear absently, and my heart sings. I am home, in this strange world, in the arms of a mythical creature with pointed ears and long tail. I try to forget that none of this is mine for real though. 

Not anymore. 

Cardan hushes me, and I realize that I can taste the salt in my mouth, the tell-tale sign of crying. 

"You can tell me no, Jude," and his hand slips out from me. 

I shake my head viciously. 

"Just fuck me, Cardan," I growl. 

The heat of his breath fans my nape as he chuckles. 

"_Fuck_," he echoes, tasting the word like some foreign delicacy he's still deciding whether to spit out or not. 

_ I laugh a lot when I'm nervous, _I recall him confessing. But this time, it doesn't feel like he'd be nervous. There are warmth and wonder in his chortles. 

"Are you commanding me?“ he asks, although we both know I can't do that anymore. 

"Yes," I lie in defiance. 

He bites my neck and then, with a swift tug, my jeggings and underwear are down. He bends me forward and I take hold of a branch in front of me. 

I don't have to wait long until he enters me. 

It's the consummation of our marriage.

If I didn't know any better, I'd swear he glamours me. The slide and the stretch are just right, and my whole body shudders. 

"Oh," I gasp because no man compares to this. I wonder if all faeries would feel like Cardan; just the right fullness, his cock pressing exactly where I need it. 

We could have been fucking all this time. 

His hands knead my ass. Training has honed my body to something even mortals admire, and here, in Elfhame, my curves count to be even more enticing.

"Do you appreciate my assets, my lord?“ I ask while he pulls back. 

He lightly swats my ass. I clench and gasp in surprise. Cardan never was anything but sickeningly sweet during our trysts. But back then, I was just a girl and he was just a boy playing grown-up. Now I am a woman and Cardan is a king, a warlord. 

"You've always been my sweetest torment, my Jude," he answers and grinds his hips in a way that steals my breath. His hands slide higher, hitching my shirt up, and squeezes my waist. 

"You've blossomed while you were away," he says while he lazily rocks into me. I am on edge from the languid pace he dictates, needing more and harder. Impatiently, I rock back against him. The hits are deep and hard. I whimper, silencing myself by biting my leather jacket. The material tastes sour in my mouth. 

Cardan rights me by gently tugging on my hair. At this point, I am very pliant, as if under a glamour, and all I really have on my mind is that he fucks me faster and harder so I can come. The new angle is deeper, more intimate, and he places his hand over my mouth. 

"I need you to be quiet, wife," he murmurs gently. His tail carasses my face. His hand holds me upright while he snaps his hips up. 

I'm really glad he has muffled me because stars burst behind my eyelids when he picks up the pace. I feel every little inch of him, every slide, every heavy press in my cunt. I shake all over and hang on him. 

"Jude," he breathes in my ear, "Jude, _ dearest _, grant me the honor to gaze upon your bewitching face when you dissolve in pleasure."

I don't think there is a more complicated way to say 'let me see your face when you come', but I'd take this every time over simple sentences, over the straightforward butchering of the language. 

I nod, and then he pulls out, turning me around and kisses me. When he hoists me up, I sit on a branch that's not been there before. We're kissing when he slides back in, pulling my hips forward. We're kissing when he tilts me until I'm mewling and then doesn't relent. We're kissing when I whisper 'harder' and when he reaches between us to rub my clit in tight circles. 

We're kissing when I start to come and he swallows my whimpers. True to his wish, he pulls away when I'm in the thick of it and even with my eyes closed, I feel the weight of his gaze on me as he fucks me through it, pressing his free hand above my mouth to muffle my cries. 

We're kissing again when he pulls out and spills with low groans on my stomach, painting it white with a substance that has a pearly shimmer to it. It looks very similar to human semen. Curious, I dip my pointer finger in it and lick. 

It's neutral, a bit sweet. 

He looks at me, licentious with his tousled hair and bee-stung lips, and smooths away my hair from my sweaty face. 

"The last assassination attempt was decidedly less enjoyable than this one," he says with a gentle smile. 

I want to slap him in all honesty. The things I have endured to save his life… 

Instead, I just say, 

"I hate you."

Cardan's face _ lights up _. 

"Isn't it the greatest honor, to be at the center of the thoughts of the woman who put me on the throne and then became my wife?" 

I groan and hide my face in my palms. 

He pulls me in his embrace, and I don't push him away, even though I'm getting cold down there and he still hasn't dressed properly. 

"I'm afraid that I can't return the sentiment though," he carries on. 

That he hasn't been thinking of me isn't a big surprise, still, it stings. I wince. 

"Lately, I catch myself thinking that I do not hate wanting you, after all, Jude Duarte," Cardan says airily. 

I snap my head up to look at him. 

"I thought faeries can't lie."

He fondles my hair. 

"We can't," he agrees with a mysterious smirk. 

I stare at him stupidly. 

"I need to get dressed," I say instead and he steps away, tugging back his own clothes. I wipe away his spend with an old tissue and pull up my leggings. 

"Spend the night with me," he blurts out suddenly. 

Again, I stare at him, stupefied. 

"Do you wish to come and visit me in the mines of the Undersea?“ I say sarcastically. 

"Not in the Undersea," Cardan answers. 

"You can't come to the mortal world," I protest dumbly. 

"I can."

"It's not safe for you there, Your Highness."

"Is it safer here, where my own wife claims to want to murder me at her sister's revelry?" Cardan asks haughtily.

I exhale irritatedly. 

"Jude," he says seriously. 

"Cardan," I answer, a little hostile. 

"Your absence wears heavily on my mind. It is a distraction that I wish to —" here, his nose crunches with mild indignation "get out of my system."

He quotes my dismissal after our first slip-up. I know the weight of his nonchalance. 

"You know where to find me," is all I say and before I can move away, he grabs my arm and pulls me into a searing kiss. I melt against him, powerless in the face of his affection. 

"We have a lot to discuss, _ wife, _" he murmurs and then nudges me to turn. The maze has parted and in the middle I see my siblings, gathering around Taryn and the baby. 

"I hope you can forgive my transgression for changing your plans," Cardan says behind me. 

"Why?" I stammer. 

"At least you have a family left, Jude," he answers. 

I turn and look at him. His mask is back on, like every time he would be vulnerable, but I see the cracks. 

I kiss him, sloppily, desperately. 

"Thank you."

"I only have you, Jude," he says and I can't even begin to fathom the implications of that, because the maze changes and the green wall separates us. 

Bewildered I stare at the bushes and then force myself to run to Taryn. 

_ I only have you, Jude, _ my husband's words echo in my head. 

My stomach sinks with the realization that, indeed, I am Cardan's family. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Cardan exiled Jude with the death penalty should she return, but I mean... this is fanfic, so I thought the other punishment would actually hit Jude more in the guts :) 
> 
> I have hopelessly fallen for this series.


End file.
